


The Gift

by Spunroses



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Fenhawke Week, Implied/Referenced Past Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4377893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spunroses/pseuds/Spunroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Fenris are finally back together, but there are still certain things they need to figure out.  Meanwhile, Fenris has decided he wants to get Hawke a gift, but can't think of anything that he feels would be adequate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction and it is unbetaed, so if there is anything that doesn't make sense, please let me know.  
> If anyone wants to check out my tumblr, I mostly reblog lots of awesome Dragon Age fan works. I'll also post any writing updates there.  
> http://daobsession.tumblr.com/

After their card game, the rest of the group left Varric’s room at the Hanged Man in varying degrees of drunkeness. Fenris, however, hung back. Varric gave the elf a questioning look as he cleared the cards off the table.

“I… was wondering if I might speak with you.”

Varric winced as one of the cards came off the table sticky. “Won’t Hawke be waiting for you?”

It was common knowledge among the entire group at this point that the mage and warrior had reconciled whatever issues had kept them apart the past few years. As a result, the two of them had put up with quite a bit of teasing over the past few weeks. Fenris still blushed. “He’s drunk enough that it’ll take him a few minutes to notice I’m not there. Hopefully a few minutes is all I need.”

“What’s on your mind?” Varric asked, curious.

Fenris fidgeted with the red strip of cloth around his wrist. “I’ve been thinking that I’d like to get Hawke something. A gift.”

“You asking me for a loan, elf?”

“What? No! I… well—“ Fenris sighed. “I have some money, not much, but… The problem is, I can’t think of what to give him. So I don’t know how much gold I’d need anyway.”

Varric swilled what little ale remained in what had been Hawke’s mug, shrugged, and gulped it down. “The man is a devoted connoisseur of literature. Maybe you should get him a book.”

Fenris’s dark brows drew together as he frowned. “I think he already has at least three copies of ‘Hard in Hightown,’ if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Varric laughed. “Alright, forget the book. And forget about money. You should give him a gift that means something. Something from the heart,” he said, placing one of his palms over his chest with a faux wistful expression on his face.

“Hmm. Like what?”

“Beats me. Maybe this is a question that would be better asked of Aveline. She seems the sort to be into that sentimental stuff.”

“After what happened with Donnic?” It had been years, but Fenris still vividly remembered the guard captain’s horrendous attempts at wooing.

“Hey, they’re married now, aren’t they?”

That was true, although Fenris thought their union was more in spite of Aveline’s courting attempts rather than because of them. Still, she had been married twice. And she always seemed to have an opinion about what other people should do. Maybe she would know more about this romance business than Varric, whose closest relationship seemed to be with a crossbow.

“Perhaps you’re right. Thank you for the advice. I should go.”

Varric gave him a wave. “Good luck.”

Fenris headed downstairs to find Hawke still inside the bar, laughing at something with Isabella. She spotted Fenris first.

“There he is,” she said, a little louder than necessary.

Hawke turned to look as Fenris approached. His cheeks were a bit flushed, either from laughing or drink. Either way, he looked extremely attractive. “Hey, what took you?”

“I just had to talk to Varric for a second.” He hoped Hawke wouldn’t push the topic.

Luckily, Hawke didn’t question him further, but just slipped an arm around Fenris’s waist. It took a bit of effort for Fenris to resist the urge to pull away. He was still getting used to being touched so casually, especially in public.

“Well, I’ll just leave you two lovebirds alone,” Isabella said and then paused, winking. “Unless you want to invite me to join in?”

“Goodnight, Isabella,” Hawke responded pointedly.

The pirate laughed and sauntered away, a bit of a wobble in her step. Fenris glared after her for a second. Even though he knew she was joking, the thought of sharing Hawke with anyone tied his stomach in knots. Just the thought of Hawke being with anyone else drove him mad. In the years between their first night together and their second, Fenris had repeatedly wondered if Hawke had discretely moved on. Even though he had told himself that would be for the best, he had never really convinced himself. Whenever he had gotten to thinking about it too much, he would smash some furniture. There was a room in his mansion filled with splintered wood and shattered glass and broken pottery. He hadn’t used it since Danarius’s death, however. That was when he had started allowing himself to hope again.

“You all right?” Hawke asked.

“Yes,” Fenris lied. “We should go. It’s late.” He stepped out of the circle of Hawke’s arm and out onto the dark streets of Lowtown.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this pretty quickly and only read over it once, so if anything doesn't make sense, let me know. I think there will be at least two more chapters after this.

Hawke followed Fenris closely as they made their way through Lowtown and then Hightown. Though the walk and the night air sobered him up a bit, Hawke’s head still felt a bit fuzzy and he was glad Fenris was there. Though it had been weeks since they had run into any trouble at night on the streets of Kirkwall, new gangs seemed to keep popping up all the time. Some people even tried to target Hawke specifically, probably thinking that taking down the Champion of Kirkwall would be quite the feather in their caps.

He sighed with a bit of relief when his estate came into view. Fenris walked him right up to the front entrance, but didn’t go in. They hadn’t quite figured out the etiquette about these things yet. Fenris had a key; Hawke had given one to him years ago in case of an emergency, but Fenris had never used it.

Hawke wanted to ask Fenris to move in with him, but hadn’t worked up the courage. He was afraid Fenris would refuse. Even though it would hurt if he did, Hawke would understand. The elf was used to living alone and Hawke thought the idea of having servants made Fenris uncomfortable. It had made Hawke uncomfortable at first, too, and it could only be worse for Fenris, considering his background.

Still, Fenris’s mansion was, quite frankly, in a horrible state. There was no denying it at this point, even for those with the lowest of standards. There were cobwebs, corpses, cracked walls. Hawke had even found a room full of broken furniture. He was worried the whole place might just collapse. And with Bodahn and Sandal leaving soon, maybe Fenris would consider moving in with him. Maybe.

For the time being, however, things were a bit awkward. “Will you stay?” Hawke asked.

Fenris looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before answering. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m only a tiny bit drunk,” Hawke insisted, taking one of Fenris’s hands in his. Just that afternoon, they had returned from a four day trip up Sundermount and back. The whole time, the two of them had barely touched each other. It was nice to finally be alone together, but Fenris didn’t seem as excited about it as Hawke would have hoped. Maybe after four straight days, Fenris needed a break from Hawke. “But I understand if you’d rather just go home.”

Fenris sighed. “Yes.”

Hawke swallowed hard. He did understand, but his chest still ached a little. But the last thing he wanted to do was push Fenris. Not only for Fenris’s sake, but because of what had happened the last time they had moved too quickly. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

He was about to let go of Fenris’s hand to dig through his pockets for the door key, but Fenris wouldn’t let him go. “No, I mean, yes, I’ll stay. If that’s all right.”

Hawke couldn’t help grinning. “Of course it’s all right.”

When they headed inside, the house was mostly dark. It was late and everyone else had headed to bed already, but Bodahn had left a couple of lights lit. As he and Fenris went up the stairs, Hawke extinguished the flames with a bit of magic.

Using magic so casually in Fenris’s presence was not something he would have done even a few months ago, but he did it now without hesitation. It even made him happy that Fenris trusted him so much. If anyone else used magic outside of a battle, the elf would flinch and give them a glare. With Hawke, on the other hand, Fenris was now completely comfortable, even when the magic was being used on him. He would put up with Hawke healing even the smallest cut or sore muscle and actually enjoyed incorporating a little magic into their lovemaking.

Speaking of which, they both started stripping as soon as the door to Hawke’s bedroom closed behind them. When they had finished, Hawke scooped Fenris up and deposited them both on the bed. “I missed you,” Hawke murmured against Fenris’s neck between kisses.

“When?”

Hawke looked down at him. “These past few days.”

Fenris’s brow furrowed. “We’ve been together the whole time.”

“Yes, but we haven’t been able to do this,” Hawke said, slipping his hand between them and stroking Fenris.

“Mmm.” Fenris’s eyelids fluttered closed. “True.”

Using a bit of magic, Hawke slicked his fingers and started readying Fenris. Slowly and gently, just the way Fenris liked it, he opened the elf up. While he worked, he couldn’t help but stare at his lover. Fenris was so beautiful: the big, expressive green eyes. The silky, silvery hair. The soft brown skin. The curves of his face. Hawke loved it all. He would be content to stare at that face all day, every day, for the rest of his life. Not just because it was a beautiful face, but because it was Fenris’s face.

“What?” Fenris panted, noticing Hawke’s gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” Hawke said. It wasn’t what he really wanted to say. He wanted to say, ‘I love you.’ Even though they both knew that they loved each other, neither had actually said those words yet. Hawke had bit his tongue a few times already to stop the words from coming out. He didn’t want Fenris to feel pressured to say them back. When the elf was ready, Hawke knew Fenris would say it.

Fenris rolled his eyes, but smiled and ran his hands up and down Hawke’s back. Hawke felt him trace the faint scar left from when the Arishok had stabbed Hawke straight through with his sword. It was the worst wound Hawke had ever received and it had nearly killed him. If Hawke hadn’t finished the qunari off seconds later, sword still stuck through his belly, and if Anders hadn’t been right there to heal him immediately, it would have killed him. He sometimes noticed Fenris staring at the scars as if thinking about how close a call it had been.

“Kiss me,” Fenris said.

Hawke happily complied, feeling long, lean legs encircle his hips and pull him close. Complying with this second, unspoken request, Hawke carefully pushed himself into Fenris. When he was in, he paused, letting them both adjust. He loved the feeling of Fenris wrapped around him so completely.

“You’re beautiful,” Fenris whispered against Hawke’s neck, then chuckled softly. He combed his fingers through Hawke’s hair, pulling loose the tie that held half of it back and stroking the long black strands.

Hawke turned his head to give Fenris a long, deep kiss. It always pleased and surprised him when Fenris expressed physical attraction to him. He knew their emotional and mental attraction was much more important, but he was still a happily vain man who enjoyed compliments, especially when they were coming from Fenris.

He started to move, slightly and slowly at first, then faster. A shiver went down his spine when Fenris moaned into his mouth. The sound spurred him on and he angled his hips as he thrust, drawing out a gasp and a whisper of his name. Since Fenris usually made as little sound as possible, Hawke judged how successfully he was performing by how noisy Fenris was.

At the moment, he seemed to be doing pretty well. Fenris arched against him, making soft little mewling sounds. Hawke wondered why anyone had ever thought to compare Fenris to a wolf when he was so much more like a cat.

Hawke bent, kissing his way up Fenris’s neck and nibbling his ear. Fenris moaned again, a little more breathy this time, a little more desperate. Feeling a bit desperate himself, Hawke reached down and took Fenris in his hand. He pumped his hand up and down, once again using magic to add lubrication.

Fenris threw his head back, gasping. His whole body tensed and a second later, Hawke felt Fenris’s cum shoot over his fingers. Fenris’s muscles spasming around him sent Hawke over the edge just after. He collapsed on top of Fenris, feeling utterly but pleasantly exhausted.

He would have been content to stay there, but knew he was probably crushing Fenris a bit, so he pushed himself up after a minute and settled by Fenris’s side. They just looked at each other for a little while, Hawke gently brushing his thumb over Fenris’s chin and jaw. Fenris smiled at him and then abruptly turned over, burying his face into the crook of Hawke’s neck.

For a second, Hawke thought Fenris was crying. Had he hurt him? Did more old memories resurface? “Are you all right?”

Fenris nodded, sighing. “Just tired. And… I missed you, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love the idea that Aveline and Donnic look after Fenris, so there ya go. Once again, let me know if there's anything that doesn't make sense. I'm pretty sure there is just one chapter left and an epilogue, though that could still potentially change.

The next morning, Fenris woke first. It was still early and he was still tired, but he was used to being tired. He very briefly considered trying to sleep in for once, but the worries that had retreated to the back of his mind the night before were starting to nag at him again.

He laid in bed watching Hawke sleep. The mage’s shiny black hair was a mess and he had a faint hickey on his neck. Fenris felt his face flushing with embarrassment. Hawke would have to heal that mark before leaving the bedroom or everyone would comment on it.

Fenris wasn’t embarrassed of Hawke and he didn’t think sex was something to be ashamed of. He just thought it should be something private. Of course, he didn’t see sex the way most other people did. To him, it couldn’t be something that was just fun, or casual, or something to be joked about. He never connected what had been done to him in the past and what he did with Hawke, but his past couldn’t help but shape his general feelings on the matter.

Sex was something he and Hawke did together for themselves and each other and it was no one else’s business.

That said, Fenris was open to advice about their relationship in general. For example, this gift problem. ‘Something from the heart,’ Varric had said. What could that possibly be? Poetry? Fenris rolled his eyes at that thought. Even if Fenris could write it, he didn’t think Hawke was really a poetry person. Unless it was a dirty limerick, perhaps. He’d considered some kind of jewelry, because he knew it was a common gift between lovers. Hawke didn’t wear much jewelry, though, only a couple of protection charms. Fenris didn’t have enough money for jewelry, anyway.

Fenris sighed and rubbed his temples. What else? He’d already gone over this so many times in his head. Candy? That was boring. Flowers? Not after what had happened to Hawke’s mother. A good dagger? While it may have been useful, it wasn’t really meaningful and might be too expensive. Perfume? Another ridiculous idea; Fenris couldn’t imagine Hawke ever wearing perfume.

Fenris got the overwhelming urge to throw something across the room, but there was nothing handy nearby. Besides, he didn’t want to have to explain to Hawke why he was destroying his belongings. Instead, Fenris slipped out of bed and paced around the room. His eyes scanned everything in the dimness, searching for inspiration.

A copy of Anders’s manifesto sat on the desk. Fenris crumpled it up and threw it in the rubbish bin. It made him feel a little bit better, even though there were probably ten other copies floating around the estate. He opened the front drawer of the desk. There were several letters inside that Fenris took out and examined. The first few were all from Carver, though all he could decipher of the handwriting was the signature. The last was just a short note from Hawke’s mother asking him to pick up something for her. It must have been written shortly before her death.

Fenris looked over at Hawke sadly and then tenderly replaced the letters and closed the drawer. One way or another, Hawke had lost every member of his family. Carver was still alive, but Fenris didn’t think they had seen each other in years. Fenris had a sister out there somewhere, but he didn’t want to see her. In fact, he wished he could forget she existed again. Maybe it had been easier when he hadn’t remembered. He wondered if Hawke might like to forget a few things.

Fenris crossed to the other side of the room and stared at the bookshelf. Maybe Varric’s first idea hadn’t been a terrible one. Hawke loved books and he had given one to Fenris before. He ran a finger over the leather spines. Which book, though? He didn’t want to give Hawke something he already had a copy of. And he couldn’t very well ask Hawke to write out a list of every book he owned.

He sat down on a bench and rubbed his hands over his face in exasperation. He would have to ask Aveline. She and Donnic were coming over to his place that afternoon for lunch. Ever since she had found out that he and her husband occasionally had a drink or played cards together, she had encouraged the relationship, even joining them occasionally. They usually came over for lunch once a week, always bringing an intentionally large amount of food that Fenris would live on for at least a couple of days afterwards.

Fenris made enough coin working with Hawke to keep himself from starving, and he had been eating at Hawke’s estate more and more recently, but he still accepted their generosity. It would have been different if they were trying to force coin on him, but there was something about people wanting to feed him that was comforting. They weren’t nagging him, just making sure he was okay.

Hawke was a little more overbearing. He would fuss over Fenris, giving him massages and making sure he was covered with the blankets at night and constantly gave him amulets and potions to keep him protected. Fenris knew it was well-intentioned and that Hawke probably couldn’t help himself, so he didn’t object most of the time. Still, it was almost too much. It made Fenris feel like he didn’t deserve the attention, that he didn’t give anything back in return. And it was true. Fenris couldn’t even think of one single thing to do for Hawke.

He needed Aveline’s help.

She and Donnic showed up right on time that afternoon bearing a large basket of food. Fenris had spent most of the morning tidying up the kitchen. He didn’t use it much for actual cooking, but it was one of the warmer rooms in the drafty mansion so he sometimes sat there in the evening before going to bed. As a result, he tended to leave things there like books, parchment he practiced writing on, and polishing equipment for his weapons and armor. He also did his laundry and bathed in the kitchen, so he dragged the bathtub out and hid it in the empty pantry.

His guests set the basket on the hastily wiped down table and began unpacking it. “I think we brought too much,” Donnic said, just like he had said the week before.

“I think you’re right. Well, I’m not carrying anything back with us. We’ll just leave the leftovers here, if that’s all right with you, Fenris?” Aveline asked, just like she had the week before.

Fenris shrugged, uncorking a bottle of wine he had brought up from the cellars. “As you like.”

They both smiled at him and then at each other.

They chatted as they ate. Aveline asked Fenris about the trip up Sundermount—she hadn’t been able to get away from her duties for long enough to go with them. She had been the one to give them the mission. Reports had come in that a band of Qunari had stayed behind after the Arishok’s defeat and were hiding in caverns on the mountain. A band of robbers had tried to attack them, but there was no evidence of any Qunari.

“I guess people are still afraid. Even a few bandits can suddenly become an invading Qunari hoard if people are frightened enough.” Aveline took the last grape off of her plate and popped it into her mouth. “We should probably head back soon,” she said to her husband.

“Wait, there was… something I wanted to speak to you about.” Fenris shifted in his seat and gulped down the rest of his wine. “I was hoping to ask your advice.”

Aveline’s interest was piqued. “On what?”

“I… want to get something for Hawke. A gift. Something special. _Not_ a goat.”

“A goat?” Donnic said, raising an eyebrow and looking at his wife.

“Never mind, dear.” She patted his hand. “I think that’s a lovely idea, Fenris, but all things considered, I’m surprised you would ask me.”

“Well, you are the only two people I know who are married. Is there a better option?”

Aveline looked like she was running down the list of unlikely candidates in her head. “Hmm. I suppose you have a point there. Still, I think you’d be better off asking my husband. I’m quite hopeless when it comes to giving gifts.”

Donnic shook his head. “That’s not true, Aveline. I loved that boot polish you gave me. And that… earring.”

“Mmhmm. Then why don’t you ever wear it?”

“I…because it’s too nice. I wouldn’t want to lose it.” Donnic was a terrible liar.

Aveline just smiled at him. “Right. Well, I have to head back to work, but as your boss, I think you can take a few minutes to help Fenris.”

Donnic smiled at her as she left. The two of them smiled at each other a lot. Fenris wondered if he smiled that much when he was around Hawke.

“So,” Donnic said, turning to him. “What kind of gift are you thinking about? Is there some kind of special occasion?”

“Uh, no. Nothing like that.” Fenris looked down and dug his nails into the surface of the sturdy kitchen table. “He just does so much for me, I want to do something for him. Everything I can think of is terrible, though.”

Donnic sat back in his chair and scratched his chin for a minute. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be a thing. When I want to show Aveline a little extra attention, I just try to treat her to a special night.”

“What do you mean exactly?” Fenris asked, hoping he wouldn’t regret asking for details.

“I get some wine, some of her favorite foods and have a nice dinner. Light some candles. Give her a massage. Maybe even take a bath together. Then I make sure to give her some…extra attention. You know,” he shrugged awkwardly, “ _attention_.”

“Yes, I think I understand. No need to elaborate on that any further.”

Donnic laughed. “The point is, Aveline spends so much of her time worrying about other people. So I like to make sure she knows that she is appreciated and loved. That means more to her than any jewel or pile of gold. It’s what you want to do for Hawke, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s it,” Fenris said, feeling the tension in his chest ease. The more he thought about Donnic’s suggestion, the better it sounded. The things he had suggested were things Hawke did for Fenris all the time. Why hadn’t it occurred to him sooner to do those same things for Hawke. “Thank you, Donnic. I wish I had spoken to you about this a lot earlier.”

Donnic chuckled and gave Fenris a quick pat on the shoulder. “Anytime. Let me know how it works out?”

Fenris nodded and walked Donnic out, already making plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, Hawke wanted me to tell everyone that it was very cruel of me to make him be asleep while Fenris wandered around his room naked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I thought that this would be the last chapter before the epilogue, but I was wrong. There will be one more chapter after this and then an epilogue.  
> It's currently 4 a.m. here, so let me know if anything doesn't make sense. I just wanted to get this up before sleeping.

Hawke was very ready to be home. Being the Champion of Kirkwall wasn’t easy. He had spent hours in a meeting with Meredith and Orsino, mostly listening to them arguing over each other. Meredith was going to have to be dealt with soon, one way or another. A few years ago, she had at least seemed reasonable, but now there was an angry glint in her eye. She might be becoming the monster Anders was increasingly insisting she was.

It worried Hawke. She may not have been reckless enough to come after him, but what about Anders, or Merrill, or every other mage in the circle? She was clearly trying to get Hawke on her side for now, but what if he remained neutral for too long? What would happen when he was no longer potentially useful to her?

He almost wanted to kiss his front door when he reached it. Home was the one place he could truly relax. Also, he hoped Fenris was there. He had stopped by the elf’s mansion first, but no one was there. The only thing better than coming home would be coming home to Fenris.

“I’m home!” he called out, slamming the door behind him. He immediately began stripping off pieces of his armor and dumping them on the bench in the foyer. If none of the pieces needed cleaning or mending, he generally just left them there and it drove Bodahn and Orana, who both liked everything neat and tidy, out of their minds. Sure enough, Bodahn hurried over and began collecting the pieces.

“Welcome back, messere. Have a nice day?”

“Hmm.” Hawke rolled his neck, trying to ease the tense muscles. “Fenris wouldn’t be here, would he?”

“Indeed he is. He’s waiting for you in the dining room.” Bodahn had a funny grin on his face and he seemed almost giddy about something.

Hawke looked at him warily. His first thought was that there was some kind of prank awaiting him, but Bodahn had never seemed like the pranking type. “The dining room?”

“Yes, and I believe you are just in time for supper! I think you’ll enjoy it!” He winked.

Still a bit bemused by the dwarf’s behavior, Hawke made his way to the dining room where his confusion was only heightened. The table was formally set with an embroidered cloth Hawke had never seen before, the good dishes and silver, and a candelabra with twinkling candles. There were only two chairs at the large table, set right next to each other, and Fenris was standing behind one of them.

It took Hawke half a second to recognize him. The elf was not wearing his armor. Instead he seemed to be wearing some of Hawke’s clothes. They were large on him, but he had rolled the cuffs on the trousers up and cinched the doublet in with a belt. He looked surprisingly good and Hawke just stood staring at him for a minute.

“Wine?” Fenris asked, grabbing the decanter.

“What is all this?”

Fenris poured the wine into two goblets Hawke’s mother had insisted they only use on holidays. “I thought we would have a special night, just the two of us.”

A warm glow began building in Hawke’s chest. “You did this for me?”

Fenris scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I had help. Bodahn and Orana. Even Sandal helped. Your dog tried, but his only contribution was to dig up an old shoe from the garden.”

Hawke laughed and moved around the table to pull Fenris into his arms. “Thank you. This is just what I needed after today.” He kissed the elf on the cheek.

Fenris blushed and gave Hawke an embarrassed smile. “Sit down.” He held Hawke’s chair out and pushed it in as he sat.

“So what’s for supper?” Hawke asked as Fenris settled in the chair beside him.

“Meat pies. I think Orana is just finishing them up.”

Hawke felt another swell of affection in his chest. “My favorite. Mother used to make them whenever I was feeling down.”

“I hope you like them. We…looked for your mother’s recipe, but couldn’t find it. Orana swears she’s seen it somewhere….”

“Oh, I… uh, I put in the vault downstairs,” Hawke admitted. “Along with a few other things. Just in case. I’m sure Orana’s recipe is good, too.”

“I hope so,” the soft-spoken elf woman said, entering the dining room with a large tray. “I was worried I wouldn’t have enough time to bake them.”

Both men stood and tried to reach for the tray, but she swept it past them onto the table. On the tray sat two small pies, two salads, and a large, sugary-looking pastry with two forks. Hawke smiled. “It looks amazing, Orana. Thank you.”

She ducked her head and bobbed into a curtsy. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she said and practically fled back to the kitchen.

As they ate, Hawke noticed Fenris stealing glances at him. “What is it?”

Fenris looked down at his plate. “I just hope you like it.”

Hawke took Fenris’s hand under the table. “I do. It’s different than Mother’s, but just as good. I’ll copy her recipe so Orana has it for next time, but I honestly couldn’t be happier with this meal. After the day I’ve had, coming home to all this is wonderful.”

Fenris smiled at him, then frowned. “What happened today?”

Hawke took another bite of pie and sighed while he chewed. “Just…all this tension between the templars and mages. I’m sick of it. Everyone wants me to take sides, but I know something bad is going to happen when I do. Something bad is probably going to happen even if I don’t. Meredith can’t be trusted.”

“So…you’d side with the mages?” He said it calmly, but Hawke knew how Fenris felt.

Hawke sighed again. “I’m a mage.” Sometimes he thought Fenris actually forgot, or that the elf had three categories he put people in: mage, non-mage, and Hawke.

“I know.” Fenris squeezed Hawke’s hand. “Let’s not talk about this now.”

Surprised and relieved, Hawke brought Fenris’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. “Good idea. This meal is too good for such unpleasant conversation. Instead, why don’t you tell me how many mules did it take for Aveline to haul all the food she brought over for your lunch today?”

Fenris laughed. “Only one. I think she called it ‘Donnic.’”

They passed the rest of the meal talking about happy things: their friends, the food, how Fenris looked in Hawke’s clothes. Hawke realized it had been quite a long time since they had a long conversation with no one else involved. Before they had gotten together, it had been too difficult to spend much time together alone. After they had gotten together, most conversations quickly evolved into more physical activities—they had years of pent-up feelings to make up for, after all.

It was nice. Still, as they ate desert, Hawke was already thinking about how much fun it would be to undress Fenris. He had never seen the elf in anything other than his armor or nothing at all. It would be interesting to take different clothes off him.

When Hawke suggested they head upstairs, however, Fenris shook his head. “I have other plans,” he said mysteriously, and rose from the table. He took Hawke’s hand and led him from the room.

As they moved through the estate and then down into the cellars, Hawke just grew more and more curious. Where were they going? To Darktown? That wasn’t exactly the romantic end to the evening Hawke had envisioned. He was just considering reiterating his suggestion to go up to his bedroom when Fenris pulled him through a doorway and their destination became clear: the bath.

Hawke had the bath built after coming to the conclusion that all bathtubs in Kirkwall were too small. Luckily, during the initial renovations of the estate, it had been discovered that a pipe led down to a natural hot springs beneath the city. Hawke had a large, built-in bath that he could pump hot water straight into. Considering all the times Hawke had come home covered in dirt, blood, and various other substances, having a hot bath was like a gift from the Maker.

Bodahn must have been hard at work during their meal. Torches were lit around the room, candles were set around two sides of the tub, and the tub itself—which was more than large enough for two people—was filled with hot, lovely-smelling water. Two of Hawke’s robes were thoughtfully draped over a bench by the wall.

Hawke was stunned. “You did this, too?”

“Bodahn did it. It was just my idea. Well, actually, it was Donnic’s. But I thought it sounded nice. A hot bath and I’ll give you a massage. If…you’d like that.”

Hawke raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Would I like that? Well, it sounds like torture, but I suppose I could survive it.” He sat down on the bench to take off his boots. When Fenris started unbuckling his belt, Hawke stopped him. “Wait. I want to do that. I’ve been thinking about it since before dessert.”

Fenris laughed and shook his head, but buckled the belt again and waited. After tossing his boots and stockings aside, Hawke grabbed Fenris by the belt without moving from the bench, and pulled him close. He pulled the belt off and then started unbuttoning the doublet. “What made you decide to do all of this?” he asked.

Fenris shrugged, running his fingers through Hawke’s hair. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

Hawke looked up at him. “You do make me happy.”

“People always want things from you. The same people who spit on you when you first came to this city now try to curry your favor. I just wanted to do something for you, for once.”

Hawke leaned into Fenris’s touch as the elf cupped his cheek. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this, but I do. Thank you.”

Fenris leaned down and kissed the top of Hawke’s head. “I only wish I could do more.”

When Hawke had finished with the doublet, he saw that Fenris was also wearing a thin belt around his waist. When Hawke loosened it, the trousers dropped to the floor before Hawke could even unbutton them. He couldn’t hold back the snort of laughter that erupted, even though it ruined the mood a little. “We need to get you some clothes that actually fit you.”

“I don’t want you spending any more money on me than you already do,” Fenris said, and then squirmed away as Hawke tried to kiss his stomach. “Your turn.” He gestured for Hawke to stand.

Hawke did so and contentedly let Fenris undress him. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy. The past few weeks with Fenris had been amazing, of course. Even with everything else going on, his life hadn’t been as good since his father had died. Still, there had been that little lingering worry that, despite what Fenris said, he wasn’t as fully committed to their relationship as Hawke was.

That little worry was gone now.

Stepping down into the hot bath was delightful. Hawke pulled the leather lace from his hair and dunked his head under the water for a few seconds. When he surfaced, raking his wet hair away from his face, he felt Fenris’s hands on his shoulders from behind.

Sitting on the edge of the bath, his legs in the water, Fenris was in the perfect position to give Hawke the promised massage. Wanting a little more contact, Hawke hooked his arms over the elf’s knees and stroked the well-shaped calf below as Fenris set to work.

Though it was no surprise to Hawke, Fenris was good with his hands. All the tension Hawke carried in his neck and shoulders was slowly eased away beneath the strong but delicate fingers. He even moaned a couple of times without realizing it until he heard Fenris’s chuckles.

“Don’t laugh,” he chided. “If I laughed every time you moaned, our lovemaking would be very different.”

Fenris chuckled again. “You do laugh, sometimes.” He ran his hands all the way from the base of Hawke’s spine to the top and began massaging his scalp.

“I do?” Hawke asked, settling back against Fenris’ body. His eyes fluttered close and he almost felt a bit sleepy from relaxation and happiness. He wasn’t planning on falling asleep any time soon, though.

“It’s a very self-satisfied laugh,” Fenris told him. “You get very proud of yourself, I think.”

Hawke sighed and continued stroking Fenris’s leg. “It’s already hard enough to be so amazing. You want me to be humble about it too?”

“Not at all. You wouldn’t be you if you were.”

Hawke smiled. He was so happy. “Hmm. I love you,” he said and then froze. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter kicked my butt. I don't know why, but it was really hard to write and I'm still not sure I'm happy with it. I'm sure this is making everyone want to read it, right?  
> Heh.  
> Anyway, I might try to rewrite this at some nebulous point in the future, but for now I want to get it up.  
> As always, if anything doesn't make sense, let me know.

Hawke had said the words once before, though Fenris knew the mage didn’t remember. Not long after they had finally gotten together, the two of them had been lying in Hawke’s bed and, almost asleep, Hawke had murmured it against Fenris’s skin and was snoring seconds later.

This was different.

“Hmm. I love you,” Hawke said. Immediately afterwards, his entire body tensed up. His hands froze in place on Fenris’s legs.

Fenris could tell that Hawke hadn’t intended to say it. And that meant the situation could get awkward very fast. If Fenris reacted the wrong way, it might even break them.

Years ago, it would have terrified Fenris to hear Hawke speak of love. It was one thing for Fenris to devote himself to Hawke, to swear loyalty, to remain by Hawke’s side. That was easy. Hawke didn’t ask for it and didn’t ask for anything in return. A declaration of love, on the other hand, was asking for everything in return.

For a long time, Fenris had been certain he loved Hawke much more than Hawke could possibly love him back. Why would he love Fenris at all? What could Fenris offer besides his skill with a sword or some pleasure in bed? No one had ever wanted anything else from him. He had no memory of ever being loved. Whenever Hawke had shown even the slightest personal interest in him, it had been wonderful, but terrifying.

Their one night together three years before had been the best night of his life and the most overwhelming. He was too weak then. But he had spent the past three years strengthening his brittle little heart with Hawke’s continued friendship. He was still scared, but Hawke apparently was as well. Besides, he wasn’t going to run away again.

He began to tenderly move his fingers through Hawke’s hair, combing it back neatly. “I love you, too.” He tried to keep his voice calm, though it wavered a bit at the end.

He thought it would be more difficult to say, but once he had made the decision to say it, it was easy. A rush of relief followed and the knot of anxiety he had been harboring in his stomach began to unravel. He felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted from him. It was almost a euphoric feeling and, for a moment, he almost went into a daze as he watched his fingers twine in Hawke’s inky black hair.

Then Hawke turned, the water sloshing around the tub at the sudden movement. He looked up at Fenris with an expression the elf had never seen before, but only had a moment to analyze before Hawke’s arms slipped around him and pulled him down into the water in a tight embrace.

Water splashed over the sides of the tub and onto the floor, extinguishing the flames of more than a couple of candles, but both of them were too distracted to care. Fenris thought Hawke was almost holding him too tightly, but didn’t complain. He just held Hawke back and returned the kisses he was given.

“Thank you,” Hawke finally whispered, looking down at him. “Thank you for saying that.”

Fenris smiled and stroked Hawke’s cheek. This hadn’t been the plan, but he had inadvertently given the perfect gift. “Of course I said it. It’s true. I am yours.”

Hawke gave him another kiss, his teeth lightly bumping against Fenris’s as his leg slipped on the bottom of the bath. “And I am yours. Completely, hopelessly, but happily yours.”

“I’m glad.”

Hawke laughed. “So do you have anything else planned that could possibly top this, or can we finally go upstairs?”

“That is the plan.”

They got out of the bath and dried themselves off quickly before pulling on the robes Bodahn had set out for them and hurrying up to Hawke’s bedchamber. The robes immediately came off again as Hawke stripped them both and tossed the garments onto the floor.

Before Hawke could scoop Fenris up and toss him onto the bed—as had become a habit for him—Fenris stopped him. He gripped Hawke’s shoulders and pushed the man backwards onto the bed.

Quickly recovering from his momentary surprise, Hawke pushed himself further up on the bed. He was too tall to fit across the width of the bed, so his feet hung off the edge. Lying there, waiting for Fenris, he looked so beautiful.

Fenris took a moment to gaze at his lover before leaning down and kissing his way up Hawke’s legs. He ran his tongue up the sensitive skin of Hawke’s inner thighs, which made the mage squirm and let out a little gasp. The reaction was empowering. Hawke was always the one to lavish him with attention, not the other way around. It had been another reason Fenris felt like he didn’t deserve Hawke, but now he realized that giving was just as nice as receiving.

He ran his tongue up the length of Hawke’s cock once, earning himself a low groan in response, then continued upwards, paying attention to certain areas he knew would be sensitive: hipbone, navel, nipples, clavicle. By the time he reached Hawke’s neck, Fenris was straddling him and they were both fully aroused.

Fenris looked down at Hawke, reaching to stroke his still damp hair. He was Hawke’s and Hawke was his. It would have been an impossible thing for Fenris to imagine before they met: that he would willingly allow himself to belong to someone and somehow feel freer and safer because of it. What a ridiculous idea, yet it had happened.

“Fenris?” Hawke said, looking up at him with a combination of affection and lust in his eyes. His hands were stroking Fenris’s thighs, up over the slight curve of his hips and then back down.

Fenris kissed him slowly, teasing Hawke’s lips with his teeth. “I want you inside me,” he murmured into Hawke’s mouth.

Hawke kissed him back, pulling them closer together and slipping his hands around to open Fenris up with one finger, then two. Fenris rocked gently against him, enjoying the slight burn of the stretching and the tickle of magic that ran through him. That was another thing it would have been impossible for him to imagine: delighting in the feeling of magic.

“Hawke, I’m ready.”

Hawke nodded and withdrew his fingers before slicking himself up.

Fenris bit his lip and lowered himself onto Hawke slowly, taking him in inch by inch until they were fully joined. He planted his palms on Hawke’s chest and leaned there for a minute. Under his hands, Hawke’s skin was soft and smooth from their bath and Fenris breathed in the sweet, slightly herbal scent that clung to them both from the water. They should bathe together more often.

Hawke’s hands gripped his hips as Fenris started moving. It was a tight grip, but not painful. It made Fenris feel safe. Hawke was there with him, wanting him, loving him.

Fenris quickened his movements, settling into a good rhythm. Hawke was making lots of encouraging and arousing sounds and Fenris’s skin was becoming more and more sensitive. Everywhere Hawke was touching him felt so good and he just wanted more.

He grabbed Hawke’s shoulder and tugged on it. It took Hawke a second to realize what Fenris wanted, but he sat up so the elf was in his lap. Fenris wrapped his arms around Hawke’s neck, pressed their mouths together in a passionate kiss, and kept moving.

Hawke seemed to like this new position even better. As Fenris kissed his neck, the mage panted against his shoulder and ran his hands all over him, finally settling on Fenris’s ass.

Fenris was getting close. His erection was rubbing against Hawke’s stomach and he was worried he was going to climax first. Not worried enough to stop, but this was supposed to be Hawke’s night, wasn’t it? He needn’t have worried.

A few seconds later, Hawke’s hips arched up against Fenris and his arms gripped him around the waist. “Oh, Maker! Fenris, I love you,” Hawke gasped against Fenris’s neck. “I love you so much.”

Fenris knew there was no unspoken obligation for him to say it back again. He could say it when it felt right to him and he knew Hawke would understand. When he came himself a few seconds later, all he said was Hawke’s name before they collapsed together back on the bed.

They just lay there for a while, Hawke lightly tracing his fingers over Fenris’s back. “That was incredible,” Hawke said finally, sounding sleepy. “You should plan all our evenings.”

Fenris nuzzled his face against Hawke’s neck. “I don’t think I have the energy.”

Hawke chuckled and turned slightly to place a kiss on the top of Fenris’s head. “I know I already thanked you earlier. But thank you. Thank you for telling me you love me. Thank you for tonight. Thank you for being in my life. It would be a much worse life without you.”

Fenris was glad his face was already hidden because he felt it flush. “I’m sure you’d manage to survive.”

Hawke sighed. “I’ve survived a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I was happy.”

Sensing a shift in Hawke’s mood, Fenris pulled him closer and pressed a kiss against his neck. “I will never leave you.”

Hawke turned in Fenris’s arms so they were lying face to face. He smiled. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an epilogue left. I'll try to get it up sometime this week. Thanks to the people reading and people leaving comments. I really appreciate it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the epilogue and end to my little fic. It starts from Fenris's point of view and then switches to Hawke's halfway through.  
> I hope people enjoyed it. I plan on writing more if I get any ideas. I can't promise to write them, but I always welcome prompts on my tumblr: http://daobsession.tumblr.com/

As usual, Fenris woke up first the next morning. For once, however, he felt no compulsion to leave the cozy nest made of blankets and Hawke’s arms. Fenris knew in his head and his heart that Hawke wanted him there, that Hawke liked having him around, but that deep down part of him that had been hurt so many times that it rebelled against reason and sense was always nagging him that his head and heart were mistaken. That if Fenris got too comfortable, Hawke would get annoyed with him. That if Fenris let himself be happy, it would only hurt more when something bad inevitably happened. That despite the years Fenris had spent by Hawke’s side and the intimate things they had shared, that Fenris was still somehow misinterpreting Hawke’s feelings.

That morning, however, Fenris chose not to listen. They still nagged at him, trying to inflict doubt, but he just snuggled closer to Hawke, finding comfort in the mage’s warm skin and the strong arms that instinctively squeezed him back. He wouldn’t give in to those fears again. They had made Fenris leave once before, but he was stronger now. Besides, last night had changed things.

Those nasty little figments born from past hurts had always told him that bringing up love would only cause more fear, more possibility of loss. They were liars. Not hearing or saying the words would not make things easier if he lost Hawke. No, they would give him comfort instead, as they already were.

He might have fallen asleep again, because he was suddenly aware that Hawke was awake. His face was mashed against the crook of Hawke’s neck, so he couldn’t see, but he could feel fingers lightly combing through his hair. It felt nice and Fenris very briefly considered going back to sleep again, but now that Hawke was awake that seemed too selfish. Fenris shifted his head back so that it rested against Hawke’s arm instead of his neck and looked up at the man beside him.

Hawke smiled down at him, fingers still twining through Fenris’s hair. “Good morning. This was a pleasant surprise. You’re usually halfway out the door by the time I wake up.”

Fenris felt a stab of guilt go through him. Had he thought Hawke hadn’t noticed? It wasn’t because he didn’t want to stay. “Sorry,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from sleep, and then cleared his throat. “I— I just…”

Hawke chuckled. “It’s all right. As long as you don’t just leave without saying anything, I don’t mind. I understand that you get restless.” He sighed. “Waking up with you in my arms, though, it’s nice.”

Fenris moved his arm, which had been limply lying over Hawke’s waist, stroking his palm down his lover’s back. He traced his fingertips along the slight raised edge of the scar there, the one left from the fight that had made Hawke the Champion. After that fight, Fenris had no longer been able to deny to himself that he loved Hawke. Allowing himself to love Hawke had been the first of many steps that had led to the present moment: lying in Hawke’s bed, in Hawke’s arms, with no inclination to move. Hawke was right. It was nice.

“Maybe it will happen more often,” Fenris said, smiling back at Hawke.

“I hope so.”

***  
They stayed in bed a little longer before Hawke’s stomach started to growl as loud as his mabari. Still, it was with reluctance that Hawke let go of Fenris and got out of bed. It had been a wonderful morning following a wonderful evening and night. He had told Fenris he loved him and Fenris had said it back. Hawke had convinced himself he didn’t need either of those things, but now that they had happened, it was such a relief. He didn’t even care what new trouble would brew up between the mages and the templars. He could worry about that later. Fenris loved him.

With amused affection, he watched Fenris dressing, not in his usual leather and armor, but in Hawke’s extra robe and trousers that he had worn the night before. They were too big on the elf: the cuffs on the trousers dragged on the floor, almost completely covering Fenris’s bare feet and the sleeves went down to his fingertips. Fenris tried to roll the sleeves up, but after the soft, satiny material refused to cooperate, he shrugged and gave up.

Fenris looked over at him and glared. “What?”

Realizing that he had only managed to pull on his smallclothes and was staring at Fenris with a goofy smile on his face, Hawke just shook his head. He crossed the room, swept Fenris up in his arms, and kissed him.

Fenris kissed him back for a few seconds, then shoved him away, laughing. “I thought you were hungry.”

“I am,” Hawke said, his eyes roaming over Fenris’s body.

“For food,” Fenris clarified with a smirk and nudged Hawke in the direction of the wardrobe. “Hurry. I don’t want Bodahn getting the idea to come up here with a tray.”

Hawke started dressing without much enthusiasm. He wouldn’t mind Bodahn bringing up some food. He didn’t want to leave the room. Staying in bed all day with Fenris sounded like a marvelous idea. He vowed to himself that they definitely weren’t going to leave the estate that day. He would ask Bodahn not to allow any visitors. He wanted Fenris all to himself, just for the day.

Hawke was going to ask Fenris to move in with him. Not quite yet, though. Enough had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Soon, though. Maybe next week. He still wasn’t quite sure Fenris would agree, but he knew it would be all right either way.

After all, Fenris loved him.


End file.
